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Puzzle Pieces

A collection with some genuine moments of poetic simplicity, overwhelmed by vague abstractions and awkward construction.

A debut collection of contemporary verse that addresses classical themes using pastoral, celestial and devotional modes of writing.

Jorgental’s collection is broken into short sections titled “Reunion and Sympathy,” “Overture,” “Behavioral Science” and “Nature Deity.” The strongest of these is the last, in which Jorgental finds a looser, more conversational voice. In “Moon,” she writes cleverly of that most overused of images: “There has to be a pickup line there somewhere.” The poems’ strongest, but unfortunately underused, attributes are simplicity and humor: “Placated,” probably the most free, pleasant poem in the collection, ends: “So here’s a bean, a clean sink / several tidy faces, / and a prize mouse the cat just dragged in.” At such moments, the poems telescope in on a natural, even banal world and suddenly turn it on its side with a new way of seeing. Unfortunately, many of the poems meander in stilted abstraction that distracts from these particulars: “Know you not that greater worth / cannot be found in guise?” The author often deploys hard end rhymes, which sometimes force awkward syntax and emphasize the poems’ lack of grounding. For example, in “Lyrical,” a muse/lover is described as follows: “Held to your chest, gazed in your eyes / princely and polished to fill me with sighs.” This is poetry for poetry’s sake, and the book bottoms out in its attempts at ars poetica, which reveal nothing more than a lack of topic: “Lines travel a great distance / for what they need to do / They get caught up in carriers / but rarely make trips to the zoo.”

A collection with some genuine moments of poetic simplicity, overwhelmed by vague abstractions and awkward construction. 

Pub Date: Jan. 23, 2013

ISBN: 978-1460208625

Page Count: 48

Publisher: FriesenPress

Review Posted Online: June 27, 2013

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The East Deck Motel and Selected Poetry

An odd, nostalgic compilation, but a few poems about hospital patients see keenly into the condition of the individual body...

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Wandzilak’s debut poetry collection spans a lifetime, musing on place, change, and mortality in light, occasional verse.

Built in the 1950s, the real-life East Deck Motel in Montauk, New York, was a mecca for beachgoers, surfers, and tourists of all stripes. But in 2015, its future was uncertain. In a sense, some of these poems, set at the motel, read as elegies—nostalgic celebrations of the seashore’s many moods. The title poem’s speaker reminisces about a night of love in the dunes, away from the crowd, and it’s gloomy with foreboding: “I could barely tell land from sea / I knew where I was, but not exactly.” With the lover’s “cold hand” in his, the speaker glimpses “the heart of a tear.” Other poems cast an eye over cultural high points, as in the longish poem “A Partial Autobiography.” The short, free-verse lines begin with oddity (“I was born with a remnant third nipple / I did not know what that meant for me”) but smooth out to more familiar touchstones: “I saw Yul Brynner play The King and I…. // I have seen the unicorns at the Cloisters //….I caught a wahoo in Turks and Caicos.” The oddity gathers and increases, however, in another cultural-event poem, this time on the occasion of seeing famed cellist Yo-Yo Ma in concert in 2013. The lilting cadence of “I ate elk with a runcible spoon!” proceeds to a playful but peculiar after-concert meal: “Later we fed Mr. Ma toasted farro / As he proceeded to eat my bone marrow!” Whimsy is one thing, but word-pairing for the sake of rhyme is another, as in this quatrain: “I have delivered fourteen lives / Each followed by fourteen placentas / Therein, I found elation upon this earth, / Unequaled to a dinner of lobster polenta.” The poet’s background as a surgeon also appears with a poetic nod to delivering bad news; in it, the narrator glances daily into a nearby cemetery, where a patient will soon be buried. A compilation of similarly medical-themed poems would be truly select.

An odd, nostalgic compilation, but a few poems about hospital patients see keenly into the condition of the individual body and soul.

Pub Date: April 5, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-5144-6727-5

Page Count: 54

Publisher: Xlibris

Review Posted Online: July 28, 2016

Kirkus Reviews Issue: Sept. 1, 2016

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Bold

THE BIRTH OF FINE ART

An ambitious collection—which asks the world to stop its destructive ways and recognize the importance of Africans—that...

A narrator rails against racism and ignorance in this debut poetry volume.

Celly’s book contains hundreds of poems, most of them quite short, that describe a man who is living in a universe full of unenlightened individuals who cause destruction because of their lack of knowledge. In particular, they do not appreciate the contributions of people of African descent and confound the narrator with their bigotry, murderous ways, and inability to become edified. Nevertheless, he is self-assured and encourages others to follow him. “I am the maestro without the orchestra,” he writes in the volume’s opening poem, “A Maestro,” but notes that humans won’t have the privilege of discerning what’s in his mind “until they stop killing each other.” As the many poems in the volume progress, he begins to refer to himself as “The Negus,” an African emperor or king. He has the “noble blood of the Kongo Kingdom” in “Legendary Blood,” descended from warriors, geniuses, and visionaries. The tone of the poems overall seeks to be high-minded, with references to The Prince by Machiavelli and the French Revolution. There is also a call to emulate African rhythms, such as the Congolese rumba or the songs of Bob Marley, in “It Must Rhyme and Flow.” A mysterious “they” is often mentioned, though it is unclear if this is a reference to Western society, racists, or uneducated people. Yet the narrator, who has a commanding presence, does describe an overall war on Africa and encourages Africans to rise up. Moreover, he transcends race and the color barrier and desires something mystical. “I am not a Negro. I am renegade. I am the Negus straight from heaven,” he writes in “Defined by Color Only Not So Fast!” Celly’s expansive volume, which aspires to thoughtful and strong lines about humanity and its failings, is not hostile but uses grandiose language to ponder and decree. While there are hundreds of poems, many are quite vague and are just one line or a short paragraph. The work is not entirely an exercise in self-aggrandizement, but the collection’s message can get lost amid the numerous ambiguities and repeated proclamations.

An ambitious collection—which asks the world to stop its destructive ways and recognize the importance of Africans—that remains hampered by nebulous and unspecified pronouncements.

Pub Date: July 12, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-68319-824-6

Page Count: 262

Publisher: Tate Publishing

Review Posted Online: Aug. 25, 2016

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